


Details in the Fabric

by catchinglugia



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Human, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchinglugia/pseuds/catchinglugia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hold on, help is on the way. Stay strong, I'm doing everything. :: Rewritten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Details in the Fabric

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It is okay to be mad at me for not working on Details in the Fabric for months, I'd be mad at me too. I just kind of lost motivation for the fic, though suddenly wanted to get back into it. But I'm fine-tuning the story, rewriting it so it is (hopefully) better—adjusting scenes, characters, and chapters. I'll be adding things, maybe taking things out; for better or worse who knows.
> 
> The premise is still the same; the POV is still the same. I'm think of writing a version in Gumball's POV, though I don't know if it will be actual chapters or a simple, though probably long, one-shot. Would anyone be interested in that?
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone for the continuous support, even weeks after the last update. Here's to hoping you'll all be reading again.
> 
> I'm going to take down the old version of this fic soon enough, once I upload the old version to Livejournal.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS  
> This story will include the following: homophobia, trans*phobia, sexual abuse, suicide, and major cliches. If any of this may strike a chord please at your own risk.

_Are the details in the fabric  
Are the things that make you panic  
Are your thoughts results of static cling?_

* * *

Gumball pants. He turns and sprints up the final staircase, stumbles and almost falls, before reaching the door that leads to the roof. He stands in front of it, catching his breath in the dimly lit room, the concrete drenched because of the faulty pipes. He looks at the doorknob, and when he finds it empty of any lock he figures Marshall Lee must have already entered the combination, using the numbers written on those damn playing cards. Gumball steps forward and his hand still stings from punching Michaels in the jaw as he turns the door handle.

The wind immediately rips the door out of his hand and it slams against the building. Short wisps of hair fly in front of Gumball's face and the hoodie he's wearing, _Marshall's_  hoodie, ripples because of the wind as well. The sky is a blender, a mess of obese clouds pushing each other to find room where there is none in the sky; a storm is brewing. Gumball already feels soft raindrops fall.

Marshall is standing on the ledge of the building, hands in the pockets of his infamous jacket, patched and stained, the one that used to belong to the father he never knew. Gumball pauses, still not used to how short the other boy's hair is; if it were long like before, it'd be flying crazily, but now that it's short it barely moves. The thought saddens Gumball, but he quickly shakes his head and steps forward. He starts scratching the backs of his hands again.

"Bubba," he somehow hears Marshall Lee say over the wind. Gumball swallows and walks forward, moving faster and faster until he is at Marshall's back. "Is Michael Buble still better than me?" Marshall asks after a second.

Gumball laughs shortly, and he tries not to cry, to yell or scream or something he doesn't know. "Of course not," he says to Marshall's back. "Don't an idiot."

The rain begins to fall more intensely.

"I don't want to die, Gumball," Marshall Lee suddenly chokes out.

Gumball shakes his head, though Marshall can't see it. "You're so  _stupid_ ," he says. The rain, now incredibly loud, has now drenched both of them head to toe.

Gumball reaches up and takes Marshall's wrist. Gently, he tugs on it. For a second, Marshall Lee doesn't move. Gumball's eyes widen, and he stiffens, and he thinks of everything that's happened in the past few months. It could be too much for anyone; it was too much for Gumball, and now it's affected Marshall too.

Gumball thinks of his mother, his father; he thinks of Ryan and Laney; he thinks of Marceline, and Finn, and Fionna and even Jake as well; he thinks of Marshall's mother, of Marshall's father; he thinks of Chastity; he thinks of paint and Band Aids and swimming in a cold lake the night of Christmas Day; he thinks of Frank Sinatra, of Pat Benatar, both the woman and the cat; he thinks of taking Marshall's virginity, of kissing Marshall, of wishing Marshall a merry Christmas, of telling Marshall happy birthday. Gumball tightens his grip on the other boy.

"Marshall Lee," he says simply, sharply, desperately. The black haired teen finally steps backwards, off of the ledge. He turns around, and Gumball stares at him worriedly; Marshall's eyes are bloodshot and he has dark circles underneath them. He looks so tired.

Marshall Lee smiles and then unexpectedly leans into him. Gumball stumbles, saying a soft "Oh." He wraps his arms around Marshall's waist, and Marshall cries into his shoulder, the fabric of the hoodie twisting in his hands.

Lightning flashes somewhere in the distance, and following it is a loud, deafening, clap of thunder.


End file.
